


gold rush

by Dale_luthien



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Again lol, Atsumu is my favorite twin, Developing Relationship, Eventual Smut, F/M, Falling In Love, Inarizaki, Inspired by Taylor Swift, Misunderstandings, Reader-Insert, Volleyball, gold rush is my favorite evermore song, i love reader inserts so damn much, i'm a whore for Atsumu, not a slow burn, reader is part of the Inarizaki art club, the high school romance I never had
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-11
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-15 04:46:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28682757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dale_luthien/pseuds/Dale_luthien
Summary: "Cause I don’t like a gold rush, gold rushI don’t like anticipating my face in a red flushI don’t like that anyone would die to feel your touchEverybody wants youEverybody wonders what it would be like to love you."You're a member of the Inarizaki art club and you never really paid much attention to the sports scene at the school. You only went to the Inarizaki volleyball game to practice drawing people in motion. Once you're there though, a certain golden-haired setter catches your eye and you find yourself drawing him over and over. When you leave the game, you think it'll just be your little secret forever.But then Atsumu finds out and things get complicated.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Reader
Comments: 36
Kudos: 137





	1. golden hair

**Author's Note:**

> These are the songs I listened to the most while writing this. Most of them are from a playlist I found on Youtube called “shoplifting with miya atsumu” lmao it’s actually a good playlist. I think it’s also on Spotify.
> 
> Best Friend by Rex Orange County  
> Loverboy by A-Wall  
> Televised by HUNNY  
> Talk Too Much by COIN

You study the players on the volleyball court so intently that you can barely hear the deafening cries of the Inarizaki cheering squad as yet another perfect set by Miya Atsumu is spiked down by Aran Ojiro. 

Inarizaki is well-known for its rambunctious cheering squad which is why you purposely sat in a less populated section of the stands. You want to completely focus on the players and your sketchbook which you are drawing in furiously.

When your art club president had suggested you attend the volleyball game in order to practice drawing people in motion, you hadn’t been ecstatic at the idea. You had been planning to spend a quiet Friday night drawing something that actually inspired you. A cacophonous gymnasium was not your ideal setting for artistic expression. You liked peace and quiet when you drew. 

But you couldn’t deny that it would be a really good idea to capture people moving so dynamically right in front of you in real time.

So you showed up, sketchbook in hand and sat in a corner of the stands with very few people around. 

You hadn’t been there for five minutes and Inarizaki’s obnoxious cheering squad was already grating on your nerves and senses. 

They were so gosh darn distracting. You groaned in frustration as you watched the opposing team serve. How on earth were you supposed to draw in these conditions? 

You almost considered giving up and leaving when Inarizaki sides out with an excellent block by the cat-eyed middle blocker Suna, who you have a class with. Inarizaki is up for their first serve and it goes to one of the infamous Miya twins, the blonde one, Atsumu. You don’t have any classes with him although you know him and his brother very well by sight at least. The three of you are second years so you pass by each in the halls frequently even though you don’t share any classes with them.

Atsumu strides to the service line confidently. It’s almost strange to see him looking so serious and concentrated. Every time you’ve seen him around school, he has a smile or a small smirk on his face like he knows he’s hot shit. 

Right now though, he seems to be in his zone which is to be expected considering he’s about to serve. 

What you aren’t expecting though is for him to raise his arm in the air, swiftly clench his fist, and silence the crowd with one simple motion.

That was… electrifying. In that moment, you instantly enter your creative headspace. Something about that silence and Atsumu’s dramatic flair has captured your artistic imagination. You immediately start drawing him with his fist clenched in the air. Any thoughts of leaving are long forgotten

The game progresses and you find yourself drawing Atsumu a lot. Like… a lot. Sure, you’ve drawn a few rough sketches of several of the other players, but it’s Atsumu that you’re truly fixated on.

You draw him setting from all spots of the court. It’s amazing how he can get the ball up from anywhere in a position that makes it easy for the spiker to shut down the other team. The spikers look cool slamming the ball into the ground, but you’re more amazed by how Atsumu is running the game. He chooses who to toss the ball to and how fast the toss should be. You can see the opposing team’s blockers are dying in the front row trying to keep up with his sophisticated playing style. 

One particular set that he does leaves you in awe and you practically get a cramp in your hand trying to replicate his form into your sketchbook before you forget what it looked like. The receive had been way out of Atsumu’s reach and it didn’t seem like he would ever be able to get underneath it until he crouched impossibly low to the ground and propelled the ball into the perfect position. Incredible, you think to yourself, as your thoughts linger on how powerful his thighs looked at that moment. He must train incessantly to have the physical abilities to pull off a move like that.

Even with your rudimentary understanding of the game, you find it amazing that he is doing two completely different types of serves at will. You hear someone a few rows below you define one as a jump float and one as a spike serve. The golden-haired setter switches between the two throughout the game much to the frustration of the other team. They are getting absolutely demolished by his serves. He must be at five aces now and it’s just the beginning of the second set.

You would almost feel bad for your school’s opponents, but you’re loyal to Inarizaki and you find yourself clapping along with the crowd when they score. Plus, you love watching Atsumu’s reaction whenever he gets an ace. He roars with excitement in a primal manner that you find extremely compelling.

Eventually, you find yourself becoming slightly concerned with how many sketches you’ve done of Atsumu and how few you’ve done of his teammates. What is so special about him? You don’t even know that much about him, just that people at your school tend to have strong feelings about him. People either love him or hate him. 

Watching him play for the first time now, you can’t deny that you are beginning to understand the fascination everyone at your school has with him. There’s something undeniably magnetic about Atsumu. The way he plays is breathtaking. His movements on the court are so wild and dynamic and they’re certainly giving you great practice drawing.

And okay, maybe your interest doesn’t just have to do with his volleyball skills. You didn’t need to draw him at all to know that the guy is a hottie. 

However, now that you have drawn him quite a few times, you find yourself even more aware of just what a juicy physical specimen he is. You lovingly add detail to your sketches of his physique, lingering on his muscular thighs and the way his arms flex when he outstretches them to set the ball effortlessly to his teammates.

And for once, you find yourself not hating drawing hands because his are so exceptionally beautiful.

It’s not just his body, though, that has your heart pounding and your cheeks flushed. His face when he’s playing is beautiful. There’s no other word for it. 

Every emotion from anger to joy is magnified in his expressive features. When he misses a serve, he scrunches his face in frustration and yells something about his serve toss. When he dumps the ball into the other team’s court, he lands back on his feet with the biggest grin you’ve ever seen. He looks so devious and it’s wildly attractive.

You find yourself admiring his dark eyebrows and the way his hair moves when he’s in motion. Damn, this boy is fine, you think to yourself as you scribble in your notebook.

Inarizaki shuts out the other team completely in two sets which is almost disappointing. It would be nice to have another set to perfect some techniques you’re working on. Oh well, you think resignedly. At least you got in some really great practice drawing people (or rather one person) in motion. 

You’re very grateful you chose to sit in such a sparsely populated section of the stands. It would be highly embarrassing if anyone were to find out that you drew Miya Atsumu fifteen times like some sort of stalker. If anyone ever got a hold of your sketchbook, they would definitely think you were interested in him, which you definitely are not. Pretty boy jocks are not your type. Also, he kind of gives off player vibes which you do not like. 

Yes, any interest you had in him was purely artistic. Nothing more, you say as though you’re trying to convince yourself.

Any time that someone passed in front of or behind you, you shielded your sketchbook carefully from view. You think you’ve done a pretty good job at hiding your work.

Little do you know that someone a few rows above has had a perfect view of your drawings for a good 15 minutes.

On Monday you’re sitting alone at a table, quietly eating your lunch while studying for an upcoming test. You’re very much in the zone studying and you hardly register when someone sits down directly across from you. You look up lazily and gape when you see who it is.

It’s Miya Atsumu, the guy you spent the better part of your weekend drawing. 

The day after the game, you had spent hours touching up and adding greater detail to your sketches. You feel like his visage is imprinted in your brain. His features are no mystery to you considering how long you’ve devoted to transferring them to paper. 

That chiseled jawline and those beautiful brown eyes are now up close and personal. He’s smirking at you and you find your stomach is suddenly very queasy. This can’t be good. You’ve never spoken before and he suddenly decides to sit next to you after you filled your sketchbook with drawings of him? This can’t be a coincidence.

But no one knows about that, you try to tell yourself. He doesn’t know. This has to be a coincidence.

You try to pull yourself together. “Umm, do you need something Miya-san?” you ask with a tinge of confusion in your tone.

“Call me Atsumu,” he says, smirk growing even wider. “I’d be really flattered if the girl who has a crush on me were to call me by my first name.”

“W-what?!” you sputter. “I don’t have a crush on you!”

He leans forward conspiratorially, “That’s not what I heard from a friend of mine who was sitting behind ya at the game. He says ya drew at least twenty pictures of me.”

“First of all, it was not twenty, it was fifteen,” you say as though that’s any better. “And I wasn’t drawing you because I like you. Trust me my interest was purely anatomical. I’m part of the art club.”

He laughs and even in your humiliation you find yourself acknowledging that it’s a very nice laugh. “It’s ok, I came by here so ya could confess yer feelings to me. I’m nice like that. Figured I’d make yer life easier.”

“Confess?” you exclaim. “There’s nothing to confess. I was just drawing you because I was working on capturing people in motion.”

“Then why’d ya draw me so many times?” he asks, raising his eyebrows suggestively. “My friend said he never saw ya draw anyone else.”

“Well your friend must not have been paying attention because I did actually sketch all the starters on your team.”

He smirks. “Prove it.”

No way in hell are you letting him see. The few sketches you did of his teammates are shit compared to the many, many sketches you did of him and he’s bound to notice. The ones of Atsumu are highly detailed and you even found yourself adding color to some of your favorites over the weekend. The ones of his teammates are rough and you haven’t touched them up in the slightest.

You are not about to inflate his ego anymore or feed into any crazy ideas that you have a crush on him. “I don’t have to prove anything to you,” you snarl. 

You’re mad now. How dare this guy come over here to embarrass you and demand to see your sketchbook? He’s cocky and arrogant and it’s pissing you off.

Atsumu seems delighted that he’s gotten such a strong response from you. “Oi, ya don’t have to hide yer feelings for me anymore. I’m right here babe.”

“Don’t call me that!” you hiss.

“Aww don’t be such a Tsun Tsun,” he pouts. “It’s alright that ya think I’m pretty. Ya can admit it to me right here and now.”

“As if.” You roll your eyes and stand up, ready to flee this horrific nightmare. 

His hand shoots out and grabs your wrist. You look down shocked. To your chagrin, you can’t help noticing that his hands are even nicer up close.

“Wait a minute,” he says, using his other hand to pull a piece of paper out of his pocket. “I’m just teasin’ ya. I only came by to give ya this.”

You snatch the paper from him and wrench your wrist from his grasp. “There you gave it to me. Now leave me the hell alone.” 

You stomp away from the table, feeling his gaze burning your back. At the other end of the room, you pass by the table that his teammates are seated at and they seem to be snickering when you walk by. 

Fuck. You hope Atsumu hasn’t told them about your sketches. The less people that know about that the better. 

Your heart sinks. Atsumu has just revealed that he’s a cocky bastard and you have no doubt that he’ll want everyone to know that he’s added yet another fangirl to his collection. It’s pissing you off just thinking about it. 

Damn that presumptuous, arrogant, egotistical asshole. You just know he’s going to spread rumors that you’re some obsessed stalker fangirl. You hate attention and this is certainly not going to help you avoid scrutiny.

When you are safely out of the lunchroom, you take a look at the paper. You’re shocked to see a message saying, “Text me!” accompanied by what you can only assume is Atsumu’s phone number.

He can’t possibly be interested in you? 

Your mind is running wild when you go to the art club room after school and begin conversing with your fellow members. You need to get some sort of clarity on this situation, so you begin asking around as discreetly as possible about Atsumu.

Even the art club students seem to know a lot about him and you barely have to ask a single question before everyone rushes to impart whatever gossip they have.

Everything you hear about him reinforces the impression you already got. He’s an incorrigible flirt. He never dates girls for more than a month. He gets bored and drops them. 

You resolve immediately to steer clear of this jerk. There’s no way you’re going to be one of his little playthings.

So you throw the paper with his number away without any misgivings.

After you left the lunchroom, Atsumu heads back to his teammates’ table.

“How’d it go loverboy?” one of the first years jeers.

Atsumu smirks, “Ya already saw. She took the paper.” Inside though, he’s secretly questioning just how well it actually went. You didn’t seem to be particularly flattered by his insinuations that you like him.

“Why’d she seem so mad then?” Aran asks.

Osamu laughs mercilessly, “She probably thinks he’s an asshole.”

“Shut yer trap,” Atsumu snaps. “All I did was flirt with her. And she took the paper anyway.”

Osamu rolls his eyes, “I’ve seen ya flirt before. Yer a total asshole.”

Atsumu’s temper is boiling. “Ya don’t know shit about flirting. Remind me how many girlfriends ya’ve had.”

Osamu shrugs, “Hey better for me to have had no girlfriends than to have only dated girls that just want me because I’m popular.”

Atsumu scowls at the unwelcome reminder of his past failed relationships. Girls seemed to be interested in the idea of his popularity, but when he actually started dating someone, they couldn’t handle his personality. 

Every time without fail, he’d ended up getting dumped because he was too loud, too dedicated to volleyball, too competitive, too temperamental, too cocky. In short, he was just too much for everyone. 

As a result, all of his relationships had been extremely short-lived. And that’s how the rumours started that he was some sort of player. 

No one seemed to care that he was the one that kept getting continuously dumped and it pissed him off. He had sworn off dating for the rest of his second year at least in order to keep from getting distracted at the pivotal time before Spring Inter High.

But when Atsumu heard from a friend from one of his classes that you of all people had been painstakingly sketching him playing volleyball, his interest was piqued. He was honestly flattered that someone would do that. And it didn’t hurt that you were cute and shy.

He’d seen you around and absently acknowledged that you were attractive, but you’d never been a fangirl of his or made any effort to talk to him, so your interactions had been limited to polite nods in hallways. 

So his astonishment at his friend’s report had been significant and he just knew he had to act on this. You were different from all the other girls he’d dated or who crushed on him. You were quiet and studious. You never fangirled. Really he didn’t know anything about you, but he felt desperate to talk to you. And that’s how the disastrous lunchtime encounter came about.

Atsumu wonders if disastrous is really the right word. Maybe you were just acting shy. 

Ever the optimist, he still hopes for a text or a call or something a few days and is increasingly disappointed when nothing comes. He resolves to try again and make a better impression this time. If there’s anything that volleyball has taught him, it’s that you never give up until you finally score.


	2. golden boy

A few days later you’re leaving your classroom and Atsumu is waiting outside the door. He’s in the same school uniform that all the boys wear with the white button up shirt, maroon tie, and simple black pants. You’re annoyed with yourself for acknowledging that it looks so good on him, emphasizing his athletic build. 

“Why haven’t ya texted me?” he asks. He sounds disappointed, but you see through his little act and you’re not falling for it.

“I’m not interested in fuckboys that need fangirls to feed their massive egos,” you say with a withering glance.

His jaw drops. “What are ya talking about? I’m not a fuckboy!”

“Sure, I totally believe you” you say sarcastically. “I guess everyone else is lying then.”

His thick brows are furrowed and the corners of his mouth are turned down. You’re reminded of his immensely frustrated expression when he missed a serve at the game. “I’m not lying to ya! Those are just rumors.”

“So how many girlfriends have you had?” you demand.

“I’ve only had six!” he insists as though that is an insignificant number for a second year in high school.

“Ok so everyone wasn’t lying then,” you answer.

He looks flabbergasted, “Why won’t ya give me a chance to prove to ya that I’m not like that?”

“Because I don’t believe that you’re actually interested in me for any other reason than you’re bored or something. I think you get off on playing with girls’ hearts.” 

He’s gaping now, and you continue your tirade. “I told you in the lunchroom before to stay away from me and I meant it.”

He winces as you walk away, but he makes no effort to follow you.

You’re pretty sure you told him off well enough that the next day you feel safe enough to head to the lunchroom without being bothered by him. You pass by his teammates and see that Atsumu isn't there which brings you an immense sense of relief. Hopefully, you’ll be in and out of the room by the time he ever shows his annoyingly pretty face. 

When you are situated at your normal table with lunch, you pull out your sketchbook to touch up a project for the art club. You open it delicately and with great care not to accidentally flip it to one of your Atsumu sketches. You shudder just thinking about what would happen if anyone ever found out about that. 

So far, he must have kept his mouth shut because no one has mentioned it to you or treated you strangely. Unfortunately though, you assume it’s just a matter of time before he decides he’s had enough of keeping it a secret and ruins your reputation in one fell swoop. It would certainly feed his massive ego if everyone thought he’d won over a quiet art club kid.

Hoping to have a somewhat productive lunch, you shove your fears away and focus on eating and fleshing out your project. 

You’ve been engrossed in your activities for a good ten minutes when you start to feel like someone’s watching you. It couldn’t be could it…?

Unfortunately, it is. Atsumu is now occupying a table near yours. He’s by himself and he has a textbook out in front of him alongside his lunch, but he is decidedly not studying. He’s just watching you. 

When he sees that you’ve finally noticed him, he flashes one of his disarming grins and waves a bit. You just scowl at him and slam your sketchbook closed. You quickly gather your things and leave the room. 

To your dismay, this becomes a regular occurrence. He doesn’t ever sit at any of the tables right next to yours. He’s always a couple away whether he’s to your right or left or in front of you as though he’s trying to be discrete. 

Luckily, he doesn’t just stare at you the whole time. He makes a big show of doing homework while eating, but out of the corner of your eye you catch him occasionally sneaking glances at you. It’s unnerving, but you also acknowledge that you find yourself doing the same thing. Even when he’s not playing volleyball, you can’t keep your eyes off of him.

One time his brother, Osamu walks by and you’re pretty sure you hear him call Atsumu, “A fuckin’ creep.” Atsumu just flips him off without ever looking up from his homework.

You’re annoyed. What’s with this guy? He keeps giving up lunch with his friends, so that he can sit near you by himself and bug you. And you can’t exactly tell him off or complain to a teacher. He’s free to sit wherever he wants in the lunchroom. Technically, he is leaving you alone. He hasn’t spoken a word to you since you told him how you felt about his advances.

You need to talk to someone about this. It’s driving you crazy. Maybe if you talk to someone who knows him well enough, you can get some vague idea of what the hell he’s up to. You briefly consider his twin Osamu, who seems to be much more chill than Atsumu, but in the end you decide he’s still too unapproachable. The Miya twins are very intimidating, each in their own way.

You go through the list of people you’ve seen around Atsumu. He’s closest with his teammates, but most of them are also too intimidating to ask, not to mention you’re not entirely sure if you would be able to trust their opinions of their friend. Who is close to Atsumu that wouldn’t lie to you?

Suddenly, it hits you. There is one teammate of his that you can ask. You don’t know him very well, but his reputation for dependability and honesty to the point of bluntness is well-known to everyone.

You go to the third year classroom and peek inside, gratified to see that everyone is on a break and chatting or studying. You’ll be able to slip in and no one will really notice you.

Kita Shinsuke, the Inarizaki volleyball team captain, is seated at his desk quietly reading.

“Kita-san” you begin hesitantly, “My name is (Y/N). Is it ok if I talk to you for a minute?”

There seems to be a faint glimmer of recognition in his eyes when he hears your name and you wonder if Atsumu has mentioned you before. Kita gestures to an empty chair nearby and you quickly pull it over and sit down. He waits silently for you to talk first.

“Can you please tell me about Miya-san?” you blurt out like an idiot.

His expression remains passive, “Which one?”

You blush in embarrassment at having forgotten that there are two of them. “A-atsumu,” you stutter.

“What would you like to know?” he asks with great seriousness.

“Just… something general. What do you think of him? What kind of person is he in your opinion?”

You feel very grateful that you picked Kita for this particular conversation because he seems to be taking your queries quite seriously. He obviously wouldn’t dream of ever using it as an excuse to make fun of you unlike someone you know. 

He pauses contemplatively for a moment, “I would be the first one to tell you that Atsumu is deeply flawed.” 

Aha! You knew it! Everyone knows that Kita is the most trustworthy person in your school. There’s no way he would lie to you.

“But,” he continues, cutting off your triumphant thoughts, “He also has many many good qualities. I respect him as a teammate and I value his friendship greatly.”  
He looks at you in a searching manner, ”Is that sufficient information for you?”

Kita… respects him? That doesn’t sound right. You wrinkle your nose. He’s the complete opposite of Atsumu. He’s reserved, stoic, and mature. All of these things are qualities Atsumu lacks. How is it possible that Kita is friends with him and respects him?

Kita seems to be aware of your thoughts because he says, “Everyone has a lot to say about Atsumu, but I believe that if you really want to find out who he is, you should probably get to know him yourself.”

He returns to his book and his food without sparing you a second glance. You can tell he’s done talking, so you get up. 

“Thank you Kita-san,” you say quietly. He’s certainly given you a lot to think about.

You’ve decided. You’re going to talk to Atsumu at lunch today. It’s killing you to not know what he’s up to.

When lunchtime finally arrives, you steel your nerves and march into the room resolutely. Atsumu always comes later than you, so you sit at your regular table and wait for him to show up nearby like he has done every day for the last two and a half weeks.

Just as you expected, he enters the lunchroom and selects a table close to yours. It’s now or never. You stand up with your lunch in hand and walk right in front of Atsumu. You place your lunch on the table and drop into the chair across from him.

He grins. “I knew my charm would win ya over eventually.”

You snort, “Trust me, this has very little do with your charms. It has more to do with your annoying insistence on lurking in my vicinity. And really you can thank Kita-san for the fact that I’m not here to tell you off again.”

His eyes shine. “Kita-san!” he crows joyfully and throws his head back. “Oh man, I owe him another one!”

He tilts his head to the side. “Wait, what did he tell ya?”

You shrug, “He just said that everyone has a lot to say about you but if I wanted to know what you’re actually like, I should get to know you myself.”

If you didn’t know better, you’d say that Atsumu’s eyes were welling with tears. He sniffs, “Kita-san is the best.” 

It doesn’t take long for him to get a hold of his emotions again and he quickly states, “I’m impressed ya came to talk to me in person. It might have been easier for ya to just text me.”

“I threw away your number the day you gave it to me,” you confess.

“Ouch,” he winces. Almost as soon as the disappointed look on his face appears, it’s gone and replaced by the same determined look that you saw on him during the game. It sends shivers up your spine. You know how dedicated he is to whatever endeavours he’s pursuing and you wonder if that applies to you.

“I’ll show ya I really am interested in ya. Ya can count on that,” he states firmly, with a glint in his eyes. “I’m gonna take you on the best date ya’ve ever been on. Ya will be in madly in love with me by the end.”

You roll your eyes, “Uh huh, sure. How about I give you my number this time? You let me know when and where you want to go and I’ll make time for it.”

His eyes gleam with excitement and he blesses you with one of his entirely disarming smiles, “Alright!”

Soon, the plans for the date are finalized and you agree to meet him for lunch at a nice park in the city that you’ve been to several times. He won’t tell you what you’ll be having for lunch though, preferring to keep it a surprise.

You both arrive at the park around the same time and you’re pleased to see that it’s a pleasant, crisp fall day.

Atsumu is wearing a really nice looking black jacket and carrying a bag which you assume is the food. You compliment his jacket and he smirks, “It’s Samu’s.”

“I sure hope you asked permission to borrow it,” you state.

“Uhh yeah,” he says with a devilish grin that indicates that he most certainly did not.

You huff with amusement before asking, “What’d you bring to eat?”

“Onigiri!” he says excitedly and directs you to a table under a large shade tree.

He wastes no time in opening the bag and demanding you try one.

You take a big bite and your eyes widen. “These are sooo good!” you exclaim. “They’re incredible!”

Atsumu laughs adorably in response, “Samu made them. I had to beg him and promise I wouldn’t yell at him during the next week of practice.”

You chuckle. “Samu’s jacket, Samu’s food. I might as well have gone out with your brother.”

He pouts, “I’m the one ya get to look at for the next couple of hours. Ain’t that a good thing?”

“Honestly, that is pretty nice,” you say with a smile. Might as well get it out of the way that you are attracted to him. He already knows for sure. You know that everybody wants him and that every girl in school wonders what it would be like to love him.

“Was that a compliment?” he asks with a grin.

“Don’t let it get to your head,” you wag your finger. “I said looking at you was nice. We still have to see how good of a conversationalist you are. I seem to recall you didn’t make a very good impression in that regard the first time we talked.”

He smiles apologetically, “I was only teasin’ ya!”

“You embarrassed me! I thought nobody knew about those drawings and when you came by out of the blue to accost me, I panicked. Plus, you came off cocky as hell. You just assumed I was interested in you.”

“Yeah well ya gave me a chance anyways. All’s well that ends well.” Even though his words have you shaking your head in chagrin, you can’t deny that his positive attitude is infectious. Nothing can seem to bring this guy down for long.

“I guess,” you admit, reaching for another onigiri.

“Here ya go,” he picks it up before you can grab it. He grabs your hand and presses the rice ball into your palm. You blush violently at the feel of his large hand cupping yours.

“Thanks, Miya-san,” you say, managing to collect your thoughts even as blood is pounding in your ears.

“Call me Atsumu,” he commands with a smile.

“Thanks, Atsumu,” you say in a low voice. It feels so intimate even though almost everyone already calls him Atsumu so as to avoid confusing him with his brother.

You end up just talking for three hours about volleyball, art, his teammates, being a twin, school, etc. 

He’s so easy to talk to and you find yourself laughing an embarrassing amount. Atsumu is just so funny, you can’t help yourself. This boy could charm the pants off of anyone. Even his egotistical remarks are somehow delivered in a winning manner and you find yourself playing along.

A light breeze blows his blonde hair around, but it immediately falls back into place like dominoes. You wonder vaguely what it must be like to grow up that beautiful. He’s obviously always been a looker.

He’s absolutely radiant and when you lean in close to him, you can catch a vague whiff of a coconut-scented something. You wonder if it’s his shampoo or his body wash. Whatever it is, it smells really good. His hair is glinting in the sunshine and you fantasize about what it would be like to run your fingers through his undercut.

The fact that he is so desirable has you pondering how exactly you ended up here on a date with Miya Atsumu, the golden boy of Inarizaki High School. Obviously, you’re here because he asked you, but why did he ask you? You’re just a quiet art club student.

There’s a lull in the conversation as you lose yourself in your train of thought.

“What’s on that pretty mind of yers?” Atsumu asks, propping an elbow on the table and placing his chin in his hand.

“I guess I’m just thinking about how we ended up here,” you say. “I’m still a little embarrassed that you know about the pictures I drew of you at the game.”

For once, his expression turns thoughtful. “Honestly, I thought it was… cool. Really cool,” he admits. “No one’s ever done something like that before.”

He smiles sheepishly. ”Maybe this’ll just feed into the idea that I’m an egotistical jerk, but I like it when people watch me. And that’s why I felt like I had to talk to ya. Obviously, I went a little too far with my teasin’ but I really was just tryin’ to get to know ya.”

You shrug, “Like you said, it worked out anyways.” You reflect for a moment. “I just really really hope you haven’t told anyone about the drawings.” You frown as you consider for the millionth time how embarrassing that would be.

“I haven’t told anyone. I swear! And I never will. I even told my friend I'd beat the shit out of him if he told anyone.”

“Ok, I believe you, but if I ever find out that you’ve told anyone, I will murder you,” you threaten.

He places a hand on his heart, “Trust me, I’ll never tell.” He pauses, “I would like to see those drawings though.”

You cringe. “Umm, maybe another time.” You’re still not ready to show him your deeply detailed sketches.

“So that means we’ll have a second date,” he says without skipping a beat.

“Yeah, I guess so,” you say and watch as his expression brims with joy. That smile could absolutely melt ice.

“Hell yes!” he proclaims with the same emotion as if he just scored a service ace.


	3. golden moment

Both of you are too busy with school and extracurriculars for very many elaborate dates, but you always eat lunch together and he always walks you back to your house.

Every day you find yourself waiting for Atsumu outside the gym to finish practice after you get done with your art club activities.

It is immensely comfortable walking and chatting with him as he excitedly tells you about all of the amazing plays he made during practice and as he asks you about what you did during art club.

You smile indulgently listening to him speak in that incredible Kansai dialect. Your family moved to Hyogo just before you started high school, so you don’t have the dialect and the fact that you don’t have it means that you have a greater appreciation for hearing it amongst your peers and especially hearing it from Atsumu. 

You can’t deny that the sexy dialect does something to you when it slips from his lips, accompanied by a roguish grin and a fiery look in his brown eyes.

It’s embarrassing to admit, but you’re falling for him alarmingly fast, in great contrast to your original hard-to-get persona when you were very much in denial that you had a crush on him. 

He isn’t at all what people said. Obviously, he’s aggressive and he’s got a mouth on him, but he’s definitely not a player like everyone said. Yeah, he’s flirty, but it’s only with you.

Every time that you see him, you anticipate your cheeks in a red flush and you don’t like it. All he has to do is greet you with a “Hey, gorgeous” and one of those breathtaking, ear-to-ear grins and you turn into a puddle of mush.

And you don’t even want to get started on those warm brown eyes that are much too easy to get lost in. Looking into them feels like snuggling up in a blanket on a chilly day with a cup of hot chocolate. Everything about him is utterly irresistible.

He drops by the art club room one time to wait for you when his practice gets out early. 

“Hey, gorgeous” he says with a grin, and you blush furiously. “Ready for me to walk ya home?”

“Give me a minute,” you say, as you go to the sink to wash the paint off your hands.

As you dry them, you frown a little bit. “Ugh my hands are so dry,” you complain.

Atsumu sets his bag on a desk and opens it. He pulls out a bottle of coconut-scented hand lotion and tosses it to you. “Here ya go,” he says.

Oh, so this is why he smells like coconut, you realize. 

As you rub the lotion in, you glance at his hands and admire them once again. Most guys that you know have disgusting looking hands. Not Atsumu though. You hate to admit it, but his are even nicer than yours. You’ve noticed that they never, ever look dry and that his nails are exceptionally well-groomed. As a setter, he is terribly fussy about taking care of his hands.

Because you’re a little jealous that he has prettier hands than you, you decide to tease him a bit, “I swear Atsumu, you’re more high-maintenance than I am with your hair and your hands.”

He shoots you a warning look. “Hey, watch it. I’m almost out of that bottle. Yer lucky I’m letting ya use it without makin’ ya promise to buy me another,” he informs you, dead serious about his meticulous hand care routine.

Atsumu sighs dramatically. “It ain’t easy bein’ this handsome and talented,” he says pridefully. “Don’t tell anyone, but it does take some work.”

“Poor baby,” you coo at him as the two of you leave the room. 

You can’t help acknowledging that even his slightly narcissistic personality is starting to grow on you. It’s not like his vanity is completely unwarranted. The guy is Adonis incarnate. And the fact that he doesn’t even pretend to not know it makes you laugh. Somehow, it’s so refreshing when compared to the false modesty that so many people adopt.

One weekend, he invites you to his house to study together and you agree to meet him at noon. 

You knock on the door, feeling slightly nervous because it’s your first time at his house.

“Come in,” he calls to you and you hesitantly open the door.

He’s lounging in the living room wearing a maroon t-shirt and a pair of gray sweatpants that are having quite an effect on you. Your throat goes dry just at the sight of him. You swallow hard when he grins at you. Atsumu just casually puts the sun out of a job with his smile every time.

Keep it together, you tell yourself. This isn’t serious yet. You’re just getting to know each other.

You study together as long as you can, but Atsumu reaches his limit of concentration rather quickly. He groans and leans back against the couch. “I’m sick of homework.”

“Yeah, but you need to keep your grades up so that you can play,” you remind him. “What would Inarizaki’s volleyball team be without you?”

“Fuckin’ garbage,” he says, not mincing words.

That deserves an eye roll, but you don’t deign to respond. You just keep trying to absorb the material from your notes.

Atsumu clears his throat. “How do ya think things are goin’? Between us I mean.” 

He winks, “Am I convincin’ ya?”

You aren’t ready to fully commit to anything, but you want to do something to show him that he’s definitely winning you over, so you reach over and lock hands with him. “I’d say you’re doing a pretty good job,” you state matter-of-factly.

He looks down shocked. And then he does that million dollar grin that you can’t help but return.

Holding his hand feels every bit as amazing as you’ve imagined it would. They are just as smooth as they look, albeit with a few calluses from weightlifting and years of spending more time with a volleyball in his hands than without one. 

When Osamu walks into the living room and sees the two of you holding hands, he mutters something along the lines of, “Can’t believe he has another girlfriend,” and “What do they even see in him?” before leaving the room in disgust.

It’s a testament to how happy Atsumu is that you held his hand that he doesn’t immediately chase after his gray-haired twin to fight him for his words.

Osamu calling you Atsumu’s girlfriend has you blushing because it’s not entirely accurate yet, but it’s the first step towards feeling a bit more comfortable with the idea.

In fact, you get so comfortable with the idea that it doesn’t take long for you to start wondering when and not if he’s going to ask you to be his girlfriend. You’re joined at the hip these days and everyone knows it.

After art club one day, you have to run to the gym because Suna sent you a text saying, “Come save your man” along with a photo of Osamu beating up Atsumu.

“Shit,” you sigh. Atsumu and Osamu’s relationship is much more volatile than you had expected and you have found yourself being called upon often to drag Atsumu away from some of their more heated conflicts.

By the time you get there, the fight has already been broken up and Atsumu is sulking in a corner.

“Take him home,” Osamu gestures angrily at his twin. “I’m goin’ over to Aran’s house for now.”

“Alright,” you say and walk over to Atsumu who has his arms crossed in his maroon track jacket with a deep scowl on his normally happy-go-lucky face.

You both exit the gym and walk home in silence.

When you get to his house, the silence continues as Atsumu continues to act supremely miffed while you help him clean and bandage his face.

Finally, you decide he’s been moping long enough. “You need to be nicer to your brother,” you chastise. “In fact, you need to be nicer to all of your teammates. You need them in order to do your best.”

He scrunches his face with distaste. “I would be nicer if they weren’t such slackers. Sometimes Samu doesn’t take practice as seriously as he should and it pisses me off. All he thinks about is food.” 

Atsumu breathes in deeply, “And we have a game next week to decide who’s going to be the Hyogo representative at nationals. I already went last year, but I’m plannin’ on qualifyin’ every year. That's not gonna happen, if everyone else doesn’t step up their game.”

You scratch his back gently and he nearly purrs at the sensation. He obviously likes being touched. “Atsumu, you’re going to be great. Everyone knows that. But like I said, you need everyone else for that to be possible. You should make up with your brother tonight when he comes home because you need him more than anyone. He challenges you and helps you reach your full potential.”

He grumbles and gripes, but after you’ve scratched his back for a long while, he relents and agrees that he’ll try harder to be more thoughtful.

It’s times like these that have you wondering if he’s ever going to ask you to officially be his girlfriend. Everyone already treats you as the official Atsumu- tamer and you might as well have the title to go with it.

The next week Inarizaki wins the game that clinches their spot at nationals. You meet Atsumu outside the locker room to congratulate him. All his other teammates are showering right now, but he hasn’t yet because he’s too excited to see you. He begs you in a text to come see him and you don’t have it in you to reject him and tell him to shower.

Atsumu is so ecstatic about his victory that you’re surprised he’s not bouncing off the walls. When he sees you, he runs right up to you, still in his sweaty and gross black uniform but you don’t really care. His rambunctious attitude is so enticing.

You can’t deny it anymore. You’re whipped.

“We did it!” he roars. “We’re goin’ to nationals again! And we’re second seed!”

“I’m so proud Tsumu!” you cry out, caught up in his jubilation. “You were wonderful!”

“I know!” he shouts excitedly and you laugh at his cockiness. It’s the Atsumu you know and love.

He picks you up and you catch your breath at the feeling of his arms wrapping around you.

And then he catches you off-guard when he proclaims elatedly, “Ya should be my girlfriend!”

“Really?” you ask. “Are you sure you’re not just caught up in the moment Tsumu?”

“No! I mean it! Be my girlfriend!” he states, not caring how demanding he is. He’s on a high after his stellar performance and victory.

And really you don’t care much either how demanding he sounds because he’s Atsumu and there’s nothing you want more than to be his girlfriend.

“Well, then I guess I’m your girlfriend,” you inform him.

“Hell yeah!” his elation continues unabated. “I’m goin’ to nationals again and yer my girlfriend!”

You decide that it’s time to distract him, so that maybe he’ll settle down a bit. You swiftly place both your hands on his head, intertwine your fingers in his bleached strands, and yank him down for a kiss. 

He’s surprised for a moment, but then his mouth curls against yours in delight and you moan at the feeling. You’ve definitely imagined what it would be like to feel that wicked grin against your lips.

He deepens the kiss and backs you against the wall. It doesn’t take long for your legs to feel like jelly as he kisses you senseless and you have to break away for a breath.

“Tsumu,” you gasp.

He hums at the sound of his nickname, “I’m so crazy about ya.”

“I’m crazy about you,” you answer breathlessly, looking into his chocolatey eyes. 

Both of you are still for a moment, and then you simultaneously start laughing, like neither of you can quite believe what just happened. It’s a golden moment in both of your young lives.

You’ll have to thank your art club president sometime for suggesting that you go to the volleyball game because now Atsumu is yours.

Not long after that game and becoming official, Atsumu gets invited to the All-Japan Youth training camp in Tokyo. He’ll be gone for a week and you want to give him a gift before he leaves, just to let him know you’ll be thinking of him.

Also, you aren’t the best at talking about your feelings. Expressing yourself through art always came far more naturally. So that’s how you decide to tell Atsumu how you feel about him.

You meet him at the gym after his practice and your art club meeting. Everyone else has already left, but he’s still there methodically setting the ball against the wall.

“I’m leavin’ tomorrow,” he informs you regretfully when he sees you.

“I know,” you answer. “That’s why I wanted to give you something.”

His eyes light up. “Really?!”

You nod and open your backpack to pull out several completed drawings that you did of him from that very first game you watched and hand them to Atsumu.

He looks at them in awe. Loud-mouthed Atsumu is truly speechless. It’s a historic moment.

“Do you like them?” you ask, hoping for more of a reaction.

“I LOVE THEM!” he shouts.

He pours over the drawings, complimenting your skill and the effort it took to make them.

“I like that ya know every inch of me from studyin’ me so closely,” he says as he inspects the pictures.

“Well,” you begin hesitantly. “I know almost every inch.”

There’s a suggestive air to your words and you hope he’ll be receptive. You’ve never brought up sex before and neither has he, but you aren’t opposed to the idea.

To your surprise, he seems even more hesitant than you.

“Yeah,” he says simply in response to your words, looking away as though he’s guilty about something.

“What’s wrong?” you ask.

“Nothin’,” he says, obviously lying.

“You know you can talk to me,” you tell him, raising your eyebrows.

He’s silent for a moment and then he finally relents, “I’m just mad at myself. I’ve had sex before and I wish I hadn’t because now ya won’t be my first.”

“How-how many girls you ask?” your throat going dry.

“Two” he says. “And I fuckin’ regret doing it with both of em. They were the first two girlfriends I had and they both dumped me not long after.”

“I’m almost ashamed,” he admits in a quiet tone. “I fell for every girl that told me she liked me. Luckily, I learned to stop doing,” he clears his throat, embarrassed “it with them after my second girlfriend, but I still fell for four more girls after that even if I never went all the way with them. I guess I’m just a sucker for people tellin’ me they adore me.”

You grab his face with both of your hands. “Atsumu look at me,” you command when he tries to avert his eyes. “I don’t care about your past. You’ve already proven to me what kind of guy you are. Sure, you’re a little rough around the edges, but you’re also the most incredible guy I’ve ever met. That’s why I wanted to be your girlfriend.”

“And trust me,” you continue. “We don’t have to do anything until you feel comfortable with the idea.”

Your words seem to help bring him back to his regular self. “Maybe we can wait till after I win Nationals as some sort of reward,” he suggests, seeming quite pleased with the idea. It appeals to his competitive nature.

“You know,” you inform him. “Win or lose, I’ll still be with you and I’ll still want you that way. As long as you’ve put in your best effort, I’ll be proud of you.”


	4. golden heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am ride or die for Karasuno; they are defo my favorite team in Haikyuu, but Inarizaki is objectively the hottest team in the entire show by far. Atsumu, Osamu, Aran, Suna, Kita. Do I need to say more??
> 
> Anyways, I watched these two edits a ton to get in the right headspace for describing the Karasuno vs Inarizaki match. They are so good and I’d highly recommend giving them a watch.  
> https://twitter.com/kitastars_/status/1339946948514689032?s=20
> 
> https://twitter.com/tetswro/status/1339224870920450048?s=20

When Atsumu comes back from Tokyo after the training camp, you go over to his house to welcome him home.

You knock on his door and wait until he flings it open enthusiastically. “I’m back!” he exclaims.

It’s only been a week since you’ve seen each other, but he’s a sight for sore eyes. You will never get over how good he looks, and you’re temporarily struck dumb just by the sight of him in jeans and a button up shirt that he clearly put on to impress you.

“Anything ya wanna say to me?” he asks mischievously as he looks at you expectantly with that smile that you’ve long since learned is a fucking murder weapon. He’s fishing for a compliment.

“You already know you’re a handsome bastard,” you answer.

“Yeah, I know,” he answers, humble as ever, “but I like hearing it from ya.”

“Alright,” you say as you slide your arms up his broad chest until your fingers are entwined in his honey-colored hair. “You’re so handsome. I can’t get enough of looking at you and touching you.”

You love the effect your words and hands pressed into his hair are having on him. He has his eyes closed and he’s basking in your touch and praises like a dog getting its belly scratched. If there’s anything you know about your boyfriend, it’s that he loves to be admired and adored. And you love admiring and adoring him, so who are you to deny him?

“How was the camp?” you ask

“I was awesome!” he says excitedly. (Not really what you asked but ok.) “I was easily the best setter there. There was this one first year from Miyagi that’s probably goin’ places, but he’s no real threat to me.”

Suddenly, he stills when he sees your backpack slung over your shoulders. He breaks away from the embrace with a look of betrayal on his chiseled face.

“I was thinking we could do some homework together,” you explain.

“No!!! I just got back! I don’t wanna do homework,” he whines.

“All the more reason. We need to get you caught up,” you say firmly.

He finally agrees after much coaxing and bribery. You have to promise that you’ll get him fatty tuna for dinner.

You both sit at the table and you start working on your submission for an art exhibit that your club is putting on while Atsumu studies for his Japanese lit exam.

It doesn’t take long for him to get distracted. He taps his pencil aimlessly and stares longingly at a volleyball in the corner of the room. He tries to play with your hair several times, but you keep swatting his hand away.

Finally, he settles for scrutinizing your art work with interest, and you let him because you’re tired of telling him to focus on his own work.

Also, maybe he’ll have some sort of critiques or suggestions that could prove useful to you. This exhibit is really important for the art club. He opens his mouth to speak and you listen up carefully.

“Ya know if ya ever need to draw someone without clothes, I’m more than willin’ to help ya out.”

So much for useful critiques or suggestions.

Osamu happens to be walking by, grabbing food from the fridge and he frowns when he hears his twin’s words. “Yer such a sleazebag,” he informs Atsumu.

“Shut up,” Atsumu barks. “It’s called bein’ thoughtful.”

“Oh yes, so thoughtful,” you deadpan as you exchange an exasperated glance with Osamu.

You and Osamu get along very well thanks to your willingness to call Atsumu out on his contrarian shit every once in a while. And your boyfriend’s gray-haired twin endeared himself to you quickly thanks to the fact that he’s an incredible cook. To be honest, becoming Miya Y/N one day doesn’t sound so bad. You’d get Atsumu forever and Osamu’s cooking during family visits. Obviously, that’s a long, long way off, but you really can’t help considering it because you’re just so happy with Atsumu.

For now though, all either of you need to worry about are exams, art exhibits, and volleyball games.

Spring Inter High arrives all too quickly and Atsumu informs you that they’re to play Karasuno from Miyagi on the second day of the tournament in Tokyo and you promise him that you’ll be there.

You take the train to Tokyo and find your way to the court where Inarizaki will be playing. They’ve already been in the city since yesterday and you can’t wait to see them.

You smile when you finally find the right court and see them looking like the powerhouse school they are in their sexy black uniforms.

You take a seat very close to the court and watch with pride as your boyfriend and the rest of the team warms up on one side while Karasuno waits on the other side for their turn.

Atsumu grins at you from the net and yells, “Y/N, I’m gonna get ten aces for ya!” before blowing you a kiss. You bury your face in your hands in embarrassment.

“Ohhhhh!” a short-orange haired boy from Karasuno’s team exclaims almost as loudly. “Does he have a girlfriend?! That’s so cool! No one on our team has a girlfriend!” Atsumu glares at him slightly for daring to look in your direction even though it’s his own fault for bringing attention to you.

The mention of the word “girlfriend” makes the Karasuno libero and the wing spiker with the shaved head both stare longingly at their pretty manager, who is decidedly ignoring them, until their captain yells at them to keep warming up. You chuckle slightly at the sight.

Karasuno seems like they’ll be an interesting opponent and you can’t help but be excited for Atsumu; there’s nothing he loves more than playing against a team that’s actually competition for him. But no matter how good they may be, you’re sure that your boyfriend will come through. He’s the best high school setter in Japan after all.

Atsumu has the first serve of the game and he does his usual silencing of the crowd. Unfortunately, two fangirls don’t get the hint and you cringe as their shrill voices cut into the silence of the arena.

He nails a no-touch ace, but he turns and glares viciously at the girls. You grin at the sight, knowing just how intimidating he can be when he’s angry.

The game continues and it’s incredibly frustrating to watch. Karasuno is even more unpredictable than Inarizaki. More than once you find yourself groaning out loud at the ridiculous plays they manage to pull off. Their quick attack with the short orange-haired boy has everyone on the Inarizaki side shocked, including Atsumu although he obviously thinks it’s the coolest thing since sliced bread.

There’s also an unofficial battle going on in the stands between Inarizaki’s brass band and the Japanese drums from Karasuno’s section, but you hardly notice. You only have eyes for Atsumu.

Atsumu’s jump float serves are particularly deadly today despite an error here and there. And obviously his setting is as ridiculously good as it always is. He pulls off some incredible moves like setting on the first touch. Your heart swells with pride when everyone reacts with shock at his skill.

“Nice kill!” you hear him tell Aran after that particularly risky move. Aran retorts something about Atsumu giving him a heart attack to which Atsumu just does the dorky laugh you know and love. He’s fired up today and he’s holding nothing back.

When he pulls off an incredible quick attack with Osamu that leaves Karasuno’s side horrified, he hollers, “All right!” with his fist raised in the air. He looks at you expectantly as though asking, “Did you see that?”

You answer his unspoken question by clapping and loudly screaming, “Good job, Tsumu!” He loves it when you cheer for him.

Throughout the game, he occasionally snaps at his teammates, especially his gray-haired twin because the high standards he holds the players on his team to are never going to change. He’s a meticulous perfectionist and he expects results from his hitters.

In general though, he’s just being the cocky, enthusiastic setter that has made a name for himself in Japan. His tosses and footwork are a thing of beauty.

And the glimpses that you catch of his abdominal muscles, when his shirt lifts up as his arms are outstretched gracefully to set the ball, are so insanely alluring. You’re getting slightly turned on just watching him. It reminds you of the first time you watched him play, back when you had no idea that Atsumu had a heart of gold to match his hair.

He’s currently so engrossed in the game (as he should be) that he doesn’t look your way much except to give you a cocky smile after any particularly good plays or serves. Every time, you make sure to reward him with a loud cheer like you did after the first quick attack he did with Osamu.

Unfortunately, Karasuno is also incredibly tuned into the game and they take the first set through sheer will alone. You have to admit their setter is quite good although he can’t hold a candle to your boyfriend.

For the most part, it’s Karasuno’s unpredictability that’s keeping them in the game. And it doesn’t help that Inarizaki’s teamwork is off today. Even when Inarizaki has a huge lead in the second set, they start making too many errors and it isn’t until Kita gets subbed in that they finally pull it together.

You sigh with relief when they finish off the second set thanks to Kita’s presence.

And then the third set begins with a no touch ace by Atsumu and his victory roar gives you chills. They can pull this off. You know that they can. With Atsumu’s skill and techniques, they can do this.

There’s a long back and forth between the teams and he makes an impossibly low set exactly like he did during the game that you first watched him in.

It’s just another play that demonstrates the fact that his skills are at an elite status rarely seen in a high schooler. That’s my boyfriend, you think proudly.

When Osamu sets the ball to Atsumu and he nails it to the ground, you go more nuts than anyone else in the Inarizaki section. That flawless spike by your setter boyfriend has to have hurt the opposing team’s morale, you think smugly. Get rekt Karasuno.

Atsumu follows up with another incredible play, this time blocking Karasuno’s ace, but unfortunately, the ref calls a net violation on him. You can feel his frustration radiating from the court as he apologizes to his team angrily.

Keep it together, Atsumu, you pray silently.

Atsumu continues to make insane plays that throw even his brother off, so really you aren’t too worried. You’d start to get worried if he stopped taking risks. And he’s still his usual carefree self, laughing even in the middle of an important volley. He’s keeping Inarizaki just one step ahead of Karasuno.

God, you could watch him play for hours. He’s a force of nature on the court and behind the service line. He’s never scared even when the game is turning into a death match as both teams give everything they have for every point.

In the midst of the carnage, a well-timed setter dump by Atsumu makes you screech at the top of your lungs.

As the teams go back and forth, you are losing your goddamn mind. This game is anyone’s at this point and you really really really want Inarizaki to win. When Atsumu gets another service ace when the game is tied at 26-26, the Inarizaki side of the court goes wild. Your heart pounds when you see his reaction.

You wouldn’t even think he was remotely tired from the way he roars victoriously. It doesn’t matter that he’s been in the game longer than anyone and handling the ball more than anyone besides Karasuno’s setter or that the game keeps stretching on longer and longer. He’s giving it 100% to the very end. Honestly, it gives you chills, knowing that someone like that is yours.

Your boy is on fire today and Karasuno is rightfully terrified of him whether he’s serving or setting up the next attack.

But in the end it isn’t enough. Today was Karasuno’s lucky day.

When the ball hits the floor on Inarizaki’s side, you feel completely numb. It can’t be over just like that. Especially not with a block on one of Atsumu’s perfect quick sets to Osamu.

You’re in denial and you can see the same denial written on everyone on Inarizaki’s side as well. Eliminated after their first game? This is absolutely crushing.

Aran, Ginjima, Suna, Kita, Osamu, Atsumu. All of them were here to win. The words on the Inarizaki banner echo in your mind. “We don’t need memories.” You’ve thought before how perfectly it suits Atsumu who has a single-minded drive to win. But now the slogan leaves a bitter taste in your mouth.

Everything feels like a blur until Inarizaki is lined up to bow. That’s when reality hits. When you see the expression on Atsumu’s face, the fact that they lost has finally become real to you.

As they stand lined up in front of the crowd, Atsumu refuses to look at you and you feel a pang in your heart. His aggressive, competitive nature is going to make this loss particularly painful.

He’s scowling with extreme irritation. You can just tell by his face that he wants everyone to stop clapping for them. He hates pity and to him, this applause feels like pity.

You feel grateful when a man in the crowd yells at him for his attitude. “You wear your heart on your sleeve!” the man shouts- you of all people know how true this is- “Every good match deserves praise, you dumbass!”

Atsumu looks shocked for a moment, but then his expression turns thoughtful. Look at me, Atsumu, you think. Look at me.

But he still won’t meet your gaze even though the man’s words seem to have made him less irritated and more pensive now.

You don’t even get to see him after the game because you have to take the train back to Hyogo while he has to go with the team on the bus. You suppose it’s probably for the best. Once he sleeps on it, he’ll hopefully be able to talk to you and you can work through it together.

By the time you arrive at home it’s quite late and your parents have already been asleep for a couple hours.

You let yourself in with your key and head to the bathroom to get ready for bed. As you’re brushing your teeth, your phone buzzes.

Atsumu: Are ya home?

You: Yes

Atsumu: I’m sneakin’ over to yer place. Unlock yer window.

You shake your head. That boy is going to be the death of you. If he gets caught by his parents or by yours, you’re both dead. At least your room is on the first floor while your parents sleep on the second floor, but still. It’s kinda risky.

After what happened today though, you decide it’s worth the risk if he needs to see you this badly.

You pick up some clothes off the floor as you wait in your room patiently after unlocking the window.

Finally, the window opens and Atsumu climbs through it. Once he’s inside, he simply stands and stares at you forlornly. He sticks his hands into his sweatpants.

You sit on your bed and open your arms up, “Come here Tsumu.”

He practically climbs onto your lap and presses his face into your chest as you wrap your arms around him. If boobs are going to make him feel better, you'll let him spend the whole night like this.

“You can’t win everything Tsumu,” you whisper into his hair. “There’s always an element of luck to every game and today was Karasuno’s day. It doesn’t mean that you aren’t incredibly skilled or that your hard work was meaningless.”

He nuzzles his face further into your chest, “But. I. fuckin’. hate. losin’,” he says, emphasizing every word.

Sometimes Atsumu acts like he’s god’s gift and sometimes (like right now) he’s just baby. You love him either way.

“I know, I know,” you respond and press a kiss on the top of his head. Atsumu trembles slightly and you continue, “But this is just one loss, on one day. You’ve got years of playing and winning ahead of you. Everyone knows you’re going places, Tsumu. You’ve got your third year and then someday you’ll go pro. You have to keep the big picture in mind.”

Atsumu doesn’t respond and you wonder if he’s even paying attention to what you’re saying. Tonight there’s nothing you want more than to comfort him, but you know that your words are only going to go so far after such a big disappointment for Miya “results are everything” Atsumu. You’ll have to switch to a more physical approach.

“You know,” you whisper, “I was getting really turned on watching you play today.”

He looks up at you with interest, “Really?”

You nod and smile before gently pushing him down onto the bed and straddling him. Those brown eyes are looking up at you like you’re some sort of goddess of mercy and redemption which is exactly what you intended.

He wants this badly, you see it in his hungry expression and feel it as he hardens underneath you. Still, he asks, “Are ya sure? Ya don’t have to just to make me feel better about losin’.”

You snort, “Trust me I’ve wanted to do this for a while now. I’ve been incredibly thirsty for you since the first time I ever watched you play as you very well know.”

He nods sagely. “Yeah, ya did get kinda obsessed with me after that.”

But he still seems a bit hesitant though and he doesn’t say much more for a few seconds.

“I guess if you’re too tired after the game though, I could hold off for another time…” you say evilly, knowing that it’ll fire up his competitive streak.

He grins, “It kinda sounds like yer challengin’ me.”

You shrug, “What are you gonna do about it?”

He pulls your head roughly down to his and kisses you deeply. God, he’s a good kisser. His tongue is exceptionally skilled. Must be from running his mouth all the damn time.

It’s like your body has started moving of its own accord because before you even realize you’ve started, you’re grinding down on him desperately.

“Ya seem a little desperate,” he says as he jerks his hips up to meet yours.

You groan, feeling both overwhelmed with the sensation of the friction from his movements and annoyed with his trademark arrogance.

He presses his lips to yours again and you decide to punish him a bit by biting his lip. His eyes fly open in shock, but then he looks at you even more hungrily than before. He slides his hands into your shorts and touches you exactly where you have wanted him to touch you since you admired his hands during the match when you drew all those pictures of him.

Those skillful setter hands have you writhing and squirming in an embarrassingly short amount of time. The whole time Atsumu is working you over he’s watching you with a feral look in his brown eyes.

As soon as you get close to reaching your climax though, he pulls his hands away and pushes you up so that you’re both seated and your legs are still straddling him.

“Atsumu!” you groan with exasperation.

“Don’t worry,” he says soothingly, “I’ve got somethin’ better in store for ya.”

He waits for a moment before he starts slowly taking his shirt off.

“Atsumu, if you don’t hurry the fuck up, I’m going to kick you out of my house and you’ll have to deal with that yourself,” you say gesturing to the large bulge in his sweatpants.

“Alright, alright,” he relents and rips his shirt off and tosses it onto the ground.

You suck in a deep breath. Those arms, that six pack, that jawline, that smirk. It’s all yours.

He takes your shirt off for you since you’re literally frozen, staring at his gorgeous torso.

“Speechless already, huh?” he says smirking as he cups your bare breasts.

“Not at all. I merely have an anatomical interest in your body. As an artist I have a great appreciation for symmetry and the human form,” you respond slyly.

“Funny, I seem to remember ya sayin’ something similar when I asked if ya had a crush on me. And look where we are now,” he says, forcing you to acknowledge the compromising situation you’re in.

Any retort you could have thought of dies on your tongue as he places his mouth on one of your breasts. You hold his head there by his blonde hair with one hand and reach down inside his sweatpants with your other hand.

Finally, things start to feel more even as it’s his turn now to moan and gasp jerkily.

He stops giving his attention to your breasts and focuses on divesting you of your shorts and himself of his sweatpants.

When both of you are completely bare, you lie down on your back with your knees bent as he lowers himself in between them.

He never looks away from your face as he slides inside of you. It’s not until he’s fully buried between your folds that he closes his eyes and breathes a sigh of relief and contentment.

You squeeze your legs tighter against his body, relishing the way his muscular thighs feel pressed against your own.  
And then he starts to move. He punctuates every thrust with some sort of sound whether it’s a moan or an aggressive, “Fuck!”

You’re no better at being quiet than he is. Every thrust leaves you feeling so deliciously full that you can’t hold back from making small whines and moans.

Neither of you are able to keep quiet, and you’re feeling especially grateful that your room is on the first floor of your house while your parents sleep upstairs.

Family, volleyball, inhibitions, losing. Soon, everything is long forgotten by both of you. All that exists in the world right now is the two of you becoming one.

He’s fucking you into the mattress relentlessly and he growls into your ear, “I bet ya’ve been dreaming about my cock since the first time ya watched me play.”

You should’ve known he would be into dirty talk. He never shuts up when he’s doing anything else so why would he start now when he’s fucking you?

You’re almost unable to answer him coherently since he’s reduced you to such a whiny mess.

“Yes,” you finally manage to gasp out “and also your hands.”

He answers by reaching down and rubbing you in a way that has you seeing stars.

With each thrust and deliberate stroke by his fingers, you get closer and closer until finally you clench around him as you climax.

He pulls out with a groan and flips you onto your stomach. You’re splayed out on your hands and knees vulnerably while he looms behind you. You don’t even care how exposed you are though. All you want is to feel him coming inside you.

This position is clearly his favorite because he gets even louder as he jerks his hips against your backside, pushing even deeper inside than before.

Soon, he comes undone and you feel him shudder a bit before he falls forward and catches himself on his forearms before crushing you.

He slumps forward and lies on top of you for a few moments. You feel his heart racing against your back and yours is beating just as quickly. Both of you are a little out of breath and neither of you say anything as he pulls out of you. You roll over into his arms and look into his face.

That smile that should probably be illegal is finally back on his face.

“I guess I won with ya tonight at least,” he says grinning devilishly. “Samu’s gonna be so jealous that I got laid.”

You look up at him horrified, “What the hell?! No he won’t, because you are absolutely not going to tell him!”

“Trust me, he’ll be able to tell anyway,” Atsumu says matter-of-factly. “Neither of us can hide anything from each other.”

You bury your face into your pillow, “That’s so embarrassing!”

“What? Why? Ya mean ya don’t wanna brag to everyone that you had sex with me? I know I wanna brag that I had sex with ya,” he says smugly.

His words and the afterglow feeling you’re experiencing make you giggle in spite of yourself and you remove your face from the pillow to look at him.

“Ya know, I love ya as much as volleyball,” he says adoringly.

Anyone else would probably take that statement as mildly insulting, but you know how absolutely crazy in love with volleyball Atsumu is and that it’s the highest praise he can possibly give to say that you are equal to it.

And honestly, you wouldn’t even want him to say that he loves you more than volleyball. The beloved sport is his passion and it’s that crazy passion that you found so attractive in the first place.

“I love you as much as art,” you respond and he smiles.

“Ya could say that I am a work of art,” he says and you look at him with your most unimpressed face.

“Really, Tsumu? You never miss an opportunity to brag, but sometimes you still manage to surprise me.”

He does a dorky laugh, “I’m just playin’ around.”

Then, his expression turns a bit more serious, “In all honesty, it’s nice that we both have things we love so much and that we’re willing to support each other. I kinda feel like I struck gold findin’ ya.”

Atsumu’s words leave you a bit misty-eyed. “I feel the same way,” you murmur into his ear before both of you go quiet and drift off to sleep, arms and legs entangled.

**Author's Note:**

> Apparently my brand is writing reader inserts based on Taylor Swift songs for all of my fictional boyfriends. And you know what, I’m not even mad. I’m officially in my senior year of my undergrad so to celebrate that fact, my motto for 2021 is “I’m gonna give me everything I want.” If that means writing self-indulgent, fluffy fanfiction that reveals just how much of a simp I am, then fuck it, that’s what I’m gonna do.
> 
> Anyways, Atsumu is stupid hot and I find his personality completely irresistible. I am a sucker for the setters in Haikyuu and he’s def up there in my top two, so I knew I had write for him. This fic is completed, so now it's just a matter of posting. I hope it helps any Atsumu simps out there get their fix.


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